Monday, October 28, 2013

A Living Reformation

Getting ready for Reformation Sunday, I started to daydream about what it would be like to meet someone who lived at the time of Luther's ministry. The rest, as they say, is history...

By some wrinkle in time I find myself in your midst today, and I am delighted and amazed to see you celebrating a Day of Reformation! It is incredible to find myself here in a church that calls itself Lutheran. You see, I was born in 1490 AD, and Martin Luther was my pastor.
I was born and grew up in the north-central part of Germany, in a town called Wittenburg. There weren’t many more than 2,000 people living there at the time, though that would change. My family scratched out a living. My father worked for the local brewery, and most of what was brewed stayed in town. I wish I could tell you something romantic about life back then, but I can’t. Existence was hard, sometimes brutal, often short.
Death haunted Europe in our time. The Plague, which is just a history book story to you, was a real thing to us. 16,000 people died in the city of Strasbourg in one year’s time. 300 villages in the region around this city were left deserted. More babies died than survived after childbirth. Beggars and panhandlers were everywhere, not to mention thieves and swindlers. We German peasants were far from being peaceful workers of the land. We tended to solve a lot of things with fists, knives, and clubs. It’s a wonder I lived as long as I did.
Having said all that, the Church was an ever-present part of life, even in Wittenburg. On our town square sat the city church and the Castle Church was a few blocks away. An Augustinian monastery and a small university were there, too. I was baptized the same day I was born, because my survival was not guaranteed. I made it, though, and grew up like so many others in our little town, aware of the great importance of the Church, but with very little understanding of basic Christianity. I know how strange this must sound to you, but back then, we simply did what the Church told us to do. The idea of picking up a Bible and reading what it said wasn’t even a thought that we had. We believed what the priests told us, without question. Of course, no one wanted to suffer the torments of hell. So we did as we were told. And what we were told was this: We were told that all people have a little spark of good inside them. God gives you some grace to get things going, and then it’s up to you to make your salvation sure by doing enough good in the world. I suppose another way of saying it is: we were taught that we could earn the grace of God by doing our best. So that’s what we did.
That meant doing our best for our beloved dead. The Church had told us of a place called purgatory, a kind of holding tank for the souls of our departed loved ones. Their souls stayed there for thousands upon thousands of years, unless we did something about it. And we did our best. We spent more money than we should have buying certificates called indulgences, which promised that our loved ones would escape purgatory more quickly and be in heaven sooner. Please understand, we were just doing what we were told. We truly didn’t know better.
Well, what can I say…in 1511, when I was 21 years old, a monk named Martin Luther was sent to Wittenburg to begin teaching at the university and preaching at the Castle Church in my town. This was news, but not big news. Everyone thought he had come to ask for more money to be sent to Rome. Were we wrong.
At first, Dr. Luther’s preaching was not all that different than what we had heard before. But it seemed that the longer he stayed in Wittenburg; and the longer he studied and taught at the university, the more his messages changed. We started hearing more and more about Christ Jesus. For Dr. Luther, everything came right back to Christ. But this was a different Jesus than we were used to—we were used to Jesus the Righteous Judge, Jesus the Perfect Example of what we were to strive to be. The Jesus that Dr. Luther preached was different—he showed us Jesus our Savior; Jesus our loving sacrifice for sins; Jesus our peace. At first this was hard to understand because it was so different than anything we had heard before. But then one day Dr. Luther read to us a passage from Romans that said: “This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.” I’ll never forget the way Dr. Luther explained that passage. He said, “If some complaint should be registered against a heart that believes in Christ, and testify against it concerning some evil deed, then the heart turns itself away, and turns to Christ, and says, ‘But he made satisfaction. He is the righteous one, and this is my defense. He died for me, he made his righteousness mine and made my sin his own; and if he made my sin his own, then I do not have it, and I am free.’ ”
This, I had never heard before. It seemed too good to be true. I struggled to grasp what Dr. Luther was saying. I wanted very much for such words to be true for me, but I could not escape feeling not good enough. I felt my sins surely had disqualified me from God’s favor. I approached Dr. Luther one evening about five years after he had come to Wittenburg, and I poured out my heart to him, confessing my guilt, my sinful acts. He looked me right in the eye, with a look of great compassion, and told me, “Learn Christ and him crucified; despairing of yourself, learn to pray to him, saying, “You, Lord Jesus are my righteousness, but I am your sin; you have taken on yourself what you were not and have given me what I was not.” I prayed that prayer for the rest of my life.
When I was 27 years old, Dr. Luther began publicly asking questions about the sale of indulgences. On October 31, 1517, he posted his 95 theses against the sale of indulgences on the door of our church. His life would never be the same. Neither would my life, nor Wittenburg’s, nor, dare I say, would the world ever be the same. Maybe you know the story of how Dr. Luther was declared a heretic, how he went into hiding, how he came back to Wittenburg to preach and teach again. Maybe you know about his writings, such as the Small Catechism; maybe you have sung his hymns, like “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” And perhaps you know about the protection the German princes gave his fellow pastors when they made their statement of faith at Augsburg. You may even know how many millions of people worship in churches that were part of the Reformation that accompanied and followed Dr. Luther’s work. Whether or not you know about those things, here’s what I know.
Dr. Luther was my pastor. If it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve bought indulgences for my loved ones until the day I died, and then hoped that they would buy them for me. If it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve never had a Bible in my own mother tongue—the Scriptures in the German language! And if it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve never known Jesus Christ the way the Bible describes Him—not as a frowning judge but as a loving brother, who went even to the cross to purchase my soul. It was also Dr. Luther who taught me that being a good husband and father and doing my job well honored God as much as a priest or pastor honored God with their duties. Was Dr. Luther a perfect man? He’d be the first to emphatically tell you “No.” But he was my pastor. He showed me who Jesus really was. I am eternally grateful.
That’s my story, part of it, at least. But before I go, I’m fascinated to ask you brothers and sisters who bear the Lutheran name, what is it like? What is it like to live free from the ignorance that held people like me captive? What is it like to have the Bible so easily accessible—right in your own language, available everywhere? What is it like to have Jesus Christ clearly and rightly proclaimed in pulpit and classroom and home? Certainly the good news of Christ crucified and risen is still reforming the Church and the world, isn’t it? Please tell me it is. Please tell me you are running to your world with Jesus’ own words: “If the Son sets you free, you are free indeed.” Please tell me you are letting Jesus’ Words reform you.

To learn more about Martin Luther, I strongly recommend the book "Luther the Reformer" by James Kittleson.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Their Angels See the Father's Face


When was the last time you thought about angels—I mean, really thought about them? There are many things that can trigger your imagination when it comes to angels; I’m sure some of you remember the TV series “Touched By An Angel;” or the character of Clarence from the film “It’s A Wonderful Life;” or the many pieces of art that depict one or two children walking through the dark woods with a beautiful angel shielding them. In today’s Gospel Lesson, Jesus made a fascinating reference to angels. Did you catch it? He said, “See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven.” The phrase “their angels” makes the ministry of angels personal. Children have angels watching them—Jesus just said so. This is truly some supernatural stuff that He’s talking about.

But why was He talking about it? Jesus mentions the angels at the end of a conversation about human greatness. The conversation begins with a question: “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” This question had caused quite an argument among Jesus’ disciples. And in truth it is a question that bothers us deeply, spinning off other questions like: Who is successful? Who has more power? Who gets the spotlight? Who gets the credit? Many of us right now might be in a power struggle somewhere in our lives, with these sort of questions at the heart of it.

In his book “Counterfeit Gods,” Timothy Keller has an entire chapter on the idols of power and glory. There he reaches back to the Garden of Eden to say that Adam and Eve were led to resent the limits God had put on their power, and sought to be like God by taking control of their own destiny. Keller writes: “We gave in to this temptation and it is now a part of our nature. Rather than accept our dependence on God, we desperately seek ways to assure ourselves that we still have power over our own lives. But this is an illusion.”

It is an illusion, and eventually, the longing for power will disappoint, as will every idol that you let shape your life. A few years ago, NFL quarterback Tom Brady gave a 60 Minutes interview. At one point, Brady said, “Why do I have three Super Bowl rings and still think there’s something greater out there for me? There’s gotta be more than this.” The interviewer then asked, “What’s the answer?” To which Brady replied, “I wish I knew. I wish I knew.”There is something more than the worldly idol of greatness. It begins with becoming like a child.

As a living object lesson, Jesus put a little child right in front of his disciples as an example of true greatness in His Kingdom. What makes the child so great? A child is dependent. A child is in the protective care and control of their parents. A child must trust his parents for everything. The right response of a child to a parent is obedience. The look down to a child is meant to shrink our egos and put us in right alignment with God.

Jesus himself would be totally dependent and obedient to His Father. He leaned on His Father in prayer. He was never far from His Father’s presence, words, or heart. And as he died for the sins of the whole world, even for yours and mine—he whispered a prayer, “Into your hands, Father, I commit my spirit.” You and I are called to trust, that, in grace, He has provided everything necessary for new and eternal life. You can put all your weight on Jesus for everlasting life and for the grace that’s needed for daily living. In fact, there’s no other way to receive God’s gifts than to become like child, to shrink your ego, and let Him give to you.

Now if Jesus has his disciples look down to a child to see what greatness really is, He also has them look up to “their angels.” Jesus is saying, “Don’t be fooled by the size of these little ones. Don’t be fooled by their lowly status. These children have mighty angels behind them, who come from the presence of the Heavenly Father.”

Today is St. Michael and All Angels Day, and on this day in the church year we remember the victory of the archangel Michael and the good angels over Satan and his evil forces, which is recorded in Revelation 12: 7—9 . Satan and his demons were hurled out of heaven, eager to lead the world astray. One thing that tells us is that angels are not just little Cupid-y cherubs floating around with harps, but they serve as warriors of the almighty God. They also serve as messengers, such as Gabriel in Luke 1 carrying news to Mary that she will be the mother of the Christ. We celebrate the work of angels that continues to this day; angels that are sent to guard and protect God’s people as described in Psalm 91; angels that are sent to serve in times of dire need, such as their service to Jesus in times of temptation and in Gethsemane; angels that still intervene in miraculous ways today. Just get a group of Christian people together sometime, and if they’re comfortable enough with each other, ask them if they or someone they know has had an encounter with an angelic being. I’ve had people share some experiences with me that would give you goosebumps, like the WWII veteran who was shielded in combat by a tall man dressed in transparent clothing. It should come as no surprise to us that angels are active—the Bible tells us so—but there is still that surge of excitement when we are reminded of their reality.

 Jesus is saying that God’s little ones, the ones who depend on Him for all things, have a greatness beyond what the eye can see. They have angels on their side. Yet even the angels’ awesome powers are dwarfed by the splendor of the Father’s face.  Jesus trumps our desire for power by pointing us to a child. Jesus trumps our desire for glory by pointing us to angels and to God the Father.

The world will teach you that getting power and glory for yourself is what matters. But these are harsh false gods that demand far more than they give. What’s more, hunger for power and self-glorification must be abandoned if we want to have a place in the kingdom of God.
Jesus, on the other hand teaches you that a childlike dependence on God is what matters. We are to let the ego shrink. We are to drop the “God owes me” attitude. We are to let God give to us what only He can give: complete forgiveness of sins; status as a son or daughter of the King; the protection of His angel guard. We are to obey Him, trusting that our Father knows what is best for us, and, more than that, all of his creative power stands ready to help and defend us. Your angels see the Father, and the Father sees you. You have nothing to fear.


Portions adapted from a sermon by Dean Nadasdy in Concordia Pulpit Resources

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

God and Money


No servant can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money.” Luke 16: 13

Pastor Brown was going about his Monday morning routine when the phone rang. It was loyal church member, Agatha Longtimer. The conversation began pleasantly enough, with Pastor asking Agatha about the green bean casserole she had brought to the last potluck.
“Could my wife get the recipe for that?” he asked.
“Oh, that was just something I threw together at the last minute,” Agatha said.
“I sure liked it,” Pastor said.
“Well, thank you.” The line was quiet for a few moments. “Pastor, I wanted to ask you something.”
Pastor Brown took a deep breath and said, “OK.”
Agatha continued, “I was confused by the gospel lesson yesterday. You know, that one about that manager. It sounded to me like Jesus said it was okay for him to be dishonest.”
“Well, I can see that,” the Pastor said. “It is kind of an unusual story. But the point of the whole thing is not so much that it’s OK to be dishonest, but that we ought to be wise with our money.”
“Hmm,” said Agatha. “But that manager didn’t tell the truth! Is that any example to follow?”
“No, of course not,” said Pastor Brown. “Jesus’ point is that the manager was smart, in that he used money to make friends, since he had just gotten fired. Those friends might come in handy, now that he was unemployed. Even his former boss had to agree that was a shrewd move.”
“OK,” said Agatha, not sounding all that convinced.
“But remember how Jesus wrapped up the story?” the pastor asked. “He said, “Use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves.” He also said, “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much.” This whole discussion is really about how we use our money.”
Agatha said, “Well, I know Christ ends up saying, “You cannot serve both God and Money.”
“Exactly,” said Pastor Brown, “and I think Jesus is asking some hard hitting questions of us. Are we wise in how we use our finances for the sake of God’s kingdom? Do we use our money to “gain friends,” so that the good news of Jesus is heard? Do we even think of using our money that way? I think Jesus might have some serious issues with the way his modern disciples are using money.”
There was silence on the line for a few seconds. Then Agatha spoke.
“Pastor, why didn’t you preach on this reading yesterday?”
Now it was Pastor Brown’s turn to be quiet. Finally he said, ‘Well, Agatha, you know no one wants to hear another stewardship sermon. It turns people off. Did I tell you the story about my cousin? He and his wife were church-shopping, and the first church they went to, it was Stewardship Sunday, and the sermon was all about what you ought to give to the church. So they decided to try a different church the next Sunday, and guess what? It was Stewardship Sunday there too, and they quickly got the impression: the church just wants our money. So now they don’t go anywhere.” Pastor Brown paused. “I guess I do tend to shy away from talking about money from the pulpit,” he said. “I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, like I’m some kind of televangelist or something.”
“Oh, no one’s going to think THAT,” Agatha said. Pastor Brown wasn’t quite sure how to take her comment. She continued, “I think people need to hear it. If the Bible has something to say about money, tell us what it says! Why should we pretend it’s not part of our life with God?”
“You’re right, Agatha, in fact, did you know that if you total up all the quotes of Jesus from the gospels, do you know what he talks about the most in his teachings?”
“Let me guess, Pastor. Money.”
“Bingo. No pun intended. He talks about the proper use of money. Over and over Jesus says that how we use money is a direct reflection of our faith. He also points out that money and possessions, the stuff that we love so much, can quickly become a god of its own, like in yesterday’s reading, “You cannot serve both God and Money.”
“That’s true,” said Agatha. “Just look at all the foreclosures happening—little mansions sitting empty because people thought they had to have the biggest and best. Where are they now?”
“I know,” said Pastor. “But we have to be careful, in thinking that the problem is all out there. We have to ask ourselves if we’re being wise in our spending for the sake of the gospel. I mean, think of all the creature comforts we enjoy. Do you have cable?”
“Ah, satellite, actually,” Agatha said.
“Oh, good for you!” Pastor Brown thought, “Wow! Sounds nice,” but didn’t say it. “What package do you get, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Oh the premium, but I don’t know why. There’s never anything good on anyway.”
“Well, since that’s the case, have you ever though about dropping down a tier? Think of the money you’d save in a year’s time. And think of what you could do with that money for the sake of the gospel! I’m sure there’s some mission organization that you know about that could really use it. Or what if you dropped just one magazine subscription, and used that money to help fund a student’s tuition in a Christian school?”
“This may sound strange, Pastor, but I never thought of that before.”
“Well those are just couple ideas, and they don’t even really get at the heart of faithful giving.”
“What do you mean, Pastor?”
“I mean, we should not be giving God our leftovers. I just heard a presentation on the prophet Malachi that got right at the heart of giving. You know, back then, God expected his people to bring the very best as offerings. He expected them to bring the best and healthiest animals. But do you know what they were bringing? Blind, diseased, and crippled goats. The leftovers. What do you think God thought of that?”
“I can’t imagine he appreciated that very much,” Agatha said.
“You’re right,” said Pastor Brown. “But we’ve all done it, at one time or another. We bring God our blind goat and keep the healthy one for ourselves. We give God the leftovers and act as if we’ve done Him a favor. I confess I’ve done it myself.”
Another pause, and Agatha then said, quietly, “So have I, Pastor.” She took a deep breath. “But times are tough for a lot of people.”
“Believe me, I know that’s true, Agatha. But here’s the thing: in Malachi and elsewhere, God says, “Test me. Try it. Give me your best, and just see if your needs are not met.” It’s almost like he’s saying, “I dare you to try to outgive me.” Wait, here’s the verse, “Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse…Test me in this…and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.”
“Pastor Brown let those words hang in the air.
“That takes a lot of faith,” Agatha said.
“It does,” the pastor said, “but it’s more about thankfulness.”
“By the way, Pastor, what about the tithe? Are we bound to that?”
“I’d ask a different question, actually. Are we limited by ten percent? The answer to both questions is no. St. Paul wrote that we are free to give what we think is appropriate, after giving honest consideration to what Jesus has given us by his passion, death on the cross, and resurrection.”
“Well, when I think of it that way, I want to give him everything!” Agatha said.
“Now you’re onto something,” Pastor Brown said.
“But there are practical considerations…”Agatha replied.
“I know there are,” the pastor said. “God’s not asking you to bankrupt yourself. Just remember the great sacrifice he made for you and respond by giving what you think is right. Test him and see what happens when you give freely. Try it out and see if you lack anything when you give generously back to the Lord.”
Agatha was silent. Pastor Brown could hear the smile in her voice when she finally said, “I still think you should have preached about this yesterday.”
“Don’t worry, Agatha. You’ve helped me to see that I should, and I will, very soon. Now about that casserole recipe…”

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Your Host Will Seat You

Have you ever sat in the wrong seats at a ticketed event, like a sporting event or a play? That can be embarrassing, especially when you think, “Wow, we really got good seats,” and then an usher appears, asking to check your ticket, and then you have to move to seats that are less than ideal. That can be really awkward. A lot of times, those mistakes are unintentional, but they are still embarrassing nonetheless.
What would be worse would be going to a dinner or banquet and, even though you are not the guest of honor, or a member of the wedding party, you decide to sit at the head table. Then the host would have to come over and ask you to move. Everyone would feel uncomfortable. Someone who knows you well enough might ask you, “What were you thinking?”
Jesus describes a similar scenario in today’s Gospel lesson, and he offers what, at first, just seems like good social advice—proper etiquette, if you will. When you show up at a wedding banquet, Jesus says, take a lesser seat, and let the host decide where you belong. Makes sense. You’ll certainly avoid the embarrassing scene of being asked to move. And you just might enjoy the honor of having the host say, “Move up to a better place.”
What I would suggest to you today is that this story is more than just a lesson in manners. If we look closely, we will see Jesus highlighting a fundamental attitude he wants us to have. That attitude is humility.
Humility is a peculiar virtue and is easily misunderstood. The author and performer Garrison Keillor has gotten a lot of mileage out of describing the extreme humility of the people of the Upper Midwest., where folks are brought up to be deeply mistrustful of any compliments, to the point that they don’t believe they have any good qualities at all! But humility is not self-hatred. At the other end of the spectrum are those who are well acquainted with the language of humility, but don’t believe a word of it. When they say, “It was nothing,” they really mean, “I was awesome, wasn’t I?” It turns out, false humility is just pride in disguise.
Now we have named the real enemy: pride. “Where should I sit at the banquet” is really a question of pride. How important do I think I am, really? What do I think I deserve? These are important questions to consider, not just when it comes to choosing a table at the next wedding you go to, but in all of life, including how you relate to God Himself.
Here’s what I mean: we are tempted to seat ourselves at God’s best table based on us; on what we do. We perceive that our kindness toward others, or our link to a church, or our belief that we are really being obedient to God means that we deserve a plum position of some sort. These attempts at self-glorifying seem appropriate, because we are constantly told that hard work will get you moving up the ladder. You deserve good things because you’re a good person. Ok, you’re not always good, but you’re not as bad as the people sitting next to you. Pride plants the idea in my heart that God owes me something. Pride says that what matters most is what I want. But Jesus is saying that if you bring a prideful attitude into His kingdom, the least that’s going to happen is that you’ll end up embarrassed. The reality is that pride is a far more serious threat to faith. Not surprising, then, that pride takes a beating in Holy Scripture.
Listen to these passages that leave no room for pride in the Christian heart: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3: 23). “All who rely on works of the law are under a curse (Galatians 3: 10). “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment (Isaiah 64: 6). We cannot barge into God’s banquet and demand a seat based on our best performance. God will not allow it. So where does that leave us? Embarrassed and awkward? Maybe. Recognizing our sin can make us feel that way. But when you confess those sins and own up to them, you are voluntarily taking the lesser seat. When you finally see how helpless sin makes you, you are beginning to understand real humility. And when you come in humility to the feast of God, you will let the host seat you wherever he wants to. That is the great news for you today: barging into his banquet won’t work; but when you come confessing your sin, when you come to the party in humility, the host will be happy not just to welcome you; but to come out and get you and bring you to where you belong.
My son and I once had the experience of waiting in a long line for a store to open. We got in that line about an hour before the store was to open, and even so there were quite few people in front of us. There was no way that we could’ve forced our way in. But with about forty minutes to go, a friend of ours who worked in that store came out, saw us waiting, and said, “Come with me.” We waltzed past those who had been ahead of us in line and right through the front entrance. It was a pretty good feeling. It really is about who you know.
That’s how it works in the kingdom of Jesus Christ. We can’t muscle our way in—the truth is we don’t deserve to be there at all. Jesus was made like us in every way so that he could step in for us, be punished on a cross for us, suffer hell instead of us. Jesus became one of us to defeat the devil and to break the power of death by rising to life on Easter. When we approach God’s feast in humility, the crucified and risen Savior actually comes out to get us to bring us in to where he is. He comes out with forgiveness and life, saying, “Friend, move up higher!” Move up higher—be washed in the baptismal water and joined to Jesus. Move up higher—receive forgiveness of your sins and be reconciled to others. Move up higher—hear the Word of God and let the Holy Spirit create a new heart within. Move up higher—eat and drink at the feast of the Lord, where Jesus’ body and blood are offered for pardon and peace. Let’s never forget that all of us are here in the kingdom of God, feasting at His table, for one reason alone: we have a gracious Host. We have a host who comes out to the humble and brings them in.